


Sale Parler

by Sinistretoile



Category: British Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sex, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 02:29:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4770200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinistretoile/pseuds/Sinistretoile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marie has a long day of interviews but all that's thrown for a loop when Tom Hiddleston shows up for his. A day early.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sale Parler

Marie sat the table, looking over her notes. There was a list of people she was supposed to translate interviews for today. All Marvel actors. There was some big to do. She wasn't quite sure. Maybe she should have read the questions better. She could have gleaned some information She glanced at the clock. The first interview should be here any minute. All she had to do was ask the questions and translate the answers then they'd be edited for content and continuity and uploaded to the proper media outlets.  
The door opened and in walked the group from Agent Carter. The conversation flowed smoothly and the cast really seemed to enjoy themselves and each other. She found herself flirting with Hayley before their time was up. Next, was Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Again, everyone got along and conversation flowed. As the last cast member let the door close, she heard a soft exchange outside the door.  
She hazarded a glance at the clock. No time for lunch if her first solo interview was here already. The door closed as she finished making notes on their responses. She'd have to edit a few of these to make sense.  
"You're early. Do I have time to grab something from the vending machine before we start?"  
"Of course, I'm sorry I'm early. My meeting finished before time, so I thought I'd give you a leg up." Marie's eyes widened but she didn't look up. She shuffled papers around, trying not to show her fluster as she looked for her list. She skimmed the tip of her pen down the list. Carter, Agents, then it was supposed to start with the X-men cast members. The Avengers cast wasn't supposed to be until tomorrow. And she was NOT mentally, or pantie-ly, prepared to interview Tom Hiddleston today.  
"Uh, Mr. Hiddleston?"  
"Please, call me Tom."  
She looked up as he was adjusted his blazer. The jerk had worn it with a white tee that looked so damnably soft and a pair of jeans that cleaved to his runner's thighs as he sat down. She stared at his lap until he cleared his throat. "Shit, sorry."  
He laughed but she blushed ferociously. "It's alright. What were you saying?"  
"Before I got distracted by your thighs, you're uh-you're a day early. You and the other Avengers cast aren't scheduled until tomorrow."  
"Fuck. I'm so sorry. Have I completely loused up your day?"  
"Aside from missing my lunch, no."  
"Allow me to make it up to you. What was your name?"  
"Marie."  
"Marie." He looked at his watch. "I'll pick you up after your last interview and take you out to dinner."  
"You don't have to do that."  
"Please. Allow me." He leaned forward and grabbed her hands in his.  
Fuck. She swallowed, looking at him over the top of her glasses. He beamed at her with that charming smile. His hands felt warm and soft and he was waiting for an answer. "Ok, but if you have other things you need to do, you could just have a sandwich delivered."  
"Nonsense." He released her hands but didn't get up from the chair. "I don't really need an interpreter, you know."  
"I know. You speak French quite well."  
He smiled. "Did your research, eh?"  
You have no idea, she thought. "You could say that." She smiled at him then looked down at her papers, pretending to make notes. He was disarming and utterly charming and was it getting hot in here? Maybe she could open the window. She looked at it but it was one of those panel windows that didn't even crank out. "Would you excuse me?" Marie practically jumped up and ran out the door but it opened as her next scheduled interview came in. The door struck her in the face and she staggered back.  
"Oh! I'm so sorry!"  
Tom grabbed her from behind at the elbows and set her back in the chair. Blood dripped from her nose, onto her chin and her cleavage and the blouse. Tom looked down, acutely aware at how deceptively attractive she was.  
With her hair up in a messy bun and her glasses, she radiated a sexy librarian vibe. "Here, Marie, tip your head back." His large hand rested on her throat held her chin up. "Nick, be a sport and grab some tissues."  
"Sure, Tom." Nicholas ducked out the door.  
Marie looked up at Tom, very conscious of his body so close and his hand on her throat. "Just my luck." Her flush returned. They both were very aware of his hand so close to her breasts and that her nipples had begun to react, pushing against the blouse. He met her eyes and licked his lips.  
"Accidents happen." His fingers brushed against her breast bone. "Are you alright? Lightheaded? Dizzy? Your pulse is rapid."  
Nicholas tapped Tom's shoulder. Tom took the tissues and pinched her nose, taking over for her. "It's not from my nose."  
"Nick, have a seat, mate."  
"I didn't expect to see you today."  
"Got my days mixed up. But good thing I was here."  
"Good thing."  
He looked down at her. It's your fault, she thought. If she hadn't gotten so flustered. Her gaze flicked to his crotch at nearly eye level. Oh hell, it was just as glorious close up. Marie's knees parted. Hell, they opened, her position on the chair becoming an unladylike sprawl.  
"Nick, you don't mind if I sit in, do you? To make sure Marie here is alright?"  
"No, of course not, Tom."  
Tom let go of her nose, checking to make sure it had stopped bleeding. He looked directly in her eyes as he wiped the blood off her cleavage. The backs of his fingers caressed the tops of each breast before he pulled away. She raised her head slowly, turning to look at him. "Thank you."  
"You're welcome." Tom pulled a chair up next to her and sat down, his body turned towards hers. She began to ask the questions, making notes on Nick's responses. "I believe you meant 'vous avez beau decollete'."  
Marie turned to him and slowly blinked. Did he just- No, it had to have been from the head injury. "Yes, thank you." She turned her attention back to Nick and asked another question.  
"Vos mamelons sont encore a l'affiche. Puis-je les sucer?" She glanced down then back to Nick, blushing a deep red.  
"I'm sorry. Did I miss something?" Nick looked between the pair.  
"Nothing, Mr. Hoult. Tom was just telling me I had blood on my blouse." She looked over her shoulder. "Peut-etre qu'il va le prendre sur moi."  
"If that's what you want."  
"Maybe." She turned back to Nick, Tom's hand settling on her knee. Tom kept silent the next few questions, but his fingers teased her inner thigh. He watched her shift in her seat, her legs opening more. "Only a few more questions, Mr. Hoult." Marie took a drink of water and made a couple notes on the paper.  
"Je veux faire glisser le doigts a l-interieur de vous." She choked on the mouthful of water. Tom squeezed her knee.  
"Are you alright, Marie?"  
She coughed and squeezed her eyes shut. "Fine, fine, just went down the wrong way." She fixed him with a look. "Seulement vos doigts? Pourquoi ne pas votre langue et votre robinet?"  
Tom's hand stilled on her leg. "All three."  
"Then let me finish my interview." Tom remained silent the rest of the interview. Marie shook Nick's hand as he got up to leave.  
"I hope your nose will be alright."  
"It should be. Thank you."  
Tom and Nick clasped hands then patted shoulders. Nick leaned and whispered to Tom. "If you wanted to flirt with her, you could have just said, mate." They both chuckled before Nick patted the older man's shoulder and headed for the door.  
They watched him go, the door sliding closed before Tom's lips fell against her neck. His hand slipped under her skirt to tease her cleft through her panties.  
"Don't wear these tomorrow."  
She sighed and opened her legs more for him, straddling the chair now. "Why's that?"  
"Because I want to look across the table and see your cunt up your skirt."  
"That's rather presumptuous of you."  
He pushed his knuckle against her clit through the satin fabric. "Hush." His lips moved to her ear. The door opened behind him.  
"Hiddleston! What a surprise."  
Tom turned to Michael. "Mike, it's good to see you." He stood up and the two clasped hands then went in for the half hug, patting shoulders.  
"I'm at the right place, aren't I?"  
"Yes, Mr. Fassbender, Tom was a day early. You're right on time."  
"Great. Nick said you were an excellent translator despite him knocking you in the head with the door."  
"That was an accident."  
"But the reason I'm staying." Michael raised an eyebrow, catching the note of possession about Tom's body language as he sat back down next to her. "You don't mind, do you?"  
"Of course not. I've heard you're fairly fluent in French."  
"That I am. Je vais la baiser sur la table apres votre depart."  
The men laughed. "All I got was table and leave."  
"Did you catch all that, Marie?"  
"I did." She bit on the end of the pen in her hand and deliberately looked down at her notes.  
"Care to translate for Michael?"  
"I'd rather not." Tom looked over his shoulder at her. "Je prefere enveloper mes levres autour de votre bite a la place de ce stylo."  
His eyes darkened. "Shall we get on then?" He turned to Michael, who simply grinned. He might speak from, but he wasn't stupid. And he definitely felt the sexual tension between Tom and Marie. "I owe her dinner since I caused her to skip lunch."  
"Fine by me. Am I your last for the day?"  
They answered at the same time. "No." "Yes." Michael raised an eyebrow, his trademark shark's grin dulling to a knowing smirk.

Tom's lips pressed to Marie's neck as she made her last notes from the last interview. "Ready for dinner, darling?"  
"Almost." She gathered her papers up and tucked them into her laptop case. Tom leaned against the table, watching her move. She stood and stretched then moved to stand between his legs. Her lips met his, a softly insistent kiss that opened his mouth. Their tongues met and entwined. His hands held her elbows then moved up her arms and covered her breasts.  
Marie reached for his belt and opened his jeans. Tom groaned as her hand slipped into his pants and closed around his cock. She squeezed and stroked him until he was hard enough to pull out. Then she pulled away long enough to lock the door and drop to a crouch.  
Her hand wrapped around the base of him and stroked up. She placed her lips on the tip, giving him an open mouth kiss. Tom rested one hand on the table and one hand on her shoulder. She began to stroke him with her lips and hand, bobbing in a steady rhythm. His hand moved to cup her neck then the back of her head as she sucked and licked him. His mouth fell open in a silent moan. The pressure began to build and he couldn't keep his hips and legs still. She hollowed her cheeks and drew hard on him.  
"Stop." He fisted his hand in her hair and pulled her off his cock with a wet pop. "Up." He let go of her hair so she could stand and pushed off the table. He roughly pushed her against the table and kicked her feet apart. He flipped her skirt up to reveal her white satin panties, a wet spot on the crotch. He pet that spot as he leaned over her. "Mmm, you like my cock in your mouth, Marie?"  
"I love giving head."  
"I'll remember that." Remember that? What was he saying? After tomorrow, they'd probably never see each other again. He straightened up then drew the panties down her legs, tucking them in his pocket. "Shit."  
"What?"  
He patted his pockets. "No condom."  
"Front pocket of my purse." He raised an eyebrow. She looked over her shoulder at him and shrugged. "What? Men aren't the only ones who need to carry them."  
Condom in place a moment later, he teased her wet slit with the head of his cock, coating the tip in her juices. He pushed against her clit and made her hips jerk. His mouth opened slowly as he pushed into her, watching as his cock disappeared. Her back arched. He held her hip and slowly thrust into her.  
"Jesus, shit."  
"You could say that again." He grabbed her shoulder and upped the pace. Her bent position pushed the head of his cock against her sweet spot. Her deep, low moans spiked through him. His fist closed in her hair and pulled hard, bending her back more. "Fuck. Fuck. Oh, god, Christ."  
"Yes. God, yes." Her voice came out a breathy, strained moan as she attempted quiet.  
"Clit, Marie, rub your clit. I'm close and I want you to cum on my cock."  
"Yes, daddy." He chuckled, but she bucked against him as she began to rub her clit and he forgot how to speak. Her thighs clamped together. He felt her clench on him before she came in a flood down her legs. She gritted her teeth, whining to stay quiet. Tom grabbed her hips and rode out his orgasm as soon as he felt her clamp down, feeling the pressure burst inside him. He dropped down into the closet chair, legs shaking.  
"Daddy, eh?"  
She swallowed and licked her lips, brushing her hair from her face. "Oh come on, you've never been called 'daddy'?"  
"If I have, I wasn't paying attention." She straightened up and tugged her skirt down, looking around for her panties. He stood and adjusted himself, closing his jeans and buckling his belt. "Ready for dinner?"  
"Yes, I'm starving." She grabbed her purse and the laptop case, checking the floor again for her panties. "Tom, did you see where my panties went?"  
"No, which is why you shouldn't wear any tomorrow." He slipped an arm around her waist and ushered her out the door.


End file.
